Behind Closed Doors
by nox-alatus
Summary: Skwisgaar hears something disturbing. Is that what he thinks it is? And how could he possibly let this happen? Silliness and badly rendered accents ahead. Rated T for language. One- shot. COMPLETE.


**A/N:** This just idea just popped in my head and was absolutely begging to be written. Fair Warning: Silliness and badly rendered accents ahead. I don't own Dethklok or anything Metalocalypse related.

I regret nothing.

-x-x-x-

Skwisgaar Skwigelf walked through the halls of Mordhaus with an uncharacteristic bounce in his step. So far it had been a great day: he had gotten a new endorsement deal from his favorite vodka company and they had included a free six month supply in the contract; the stables of groupies had been refilled and he had heard that there were several MILFs and GMILFs that were more attractive than usual; and when he and Nathan had been target shooting, one of the yard wolves had gotten shot when it went after the rabbit they were aiming for. That wouldn't have been anything special, but they way its head had exploded was awesome and they had gotten immediate inspiration for a new song.

He was on his way to get his Explorer and then had to track down Pickles. As big as the house was, there were only so many places that they hung out, so he didn't think it would take him too long to find the drummer and drag him to the studio to play around with the new song. He didn't have to worry about finding Murderface or Toki since they didn't do any of the songwriting.

He turned into the wing where all their rooms were (except for Murderface, who chose to live practically in the basement) and decided to get his guitar before checking Pickles' room. His fingers already twitched in anticipation of touching the beloved instrument. A complicated riff ran through his head and he tried to match it to the few lyrics Nathan had managed to say before he left for the practice room. If he played this part, and Toki did a counter-rhythm in a lower register it could-

"Fucks, Pickle, not sos hard!"

Skwisgaar halted mid-step. Was that Toki's voice? And… in Pickle's room?

"Sawrry, Toki. Better?"

A muffled moan sounded and the Swede stared at the closed door in shock. "Ja, ja. "Dat's good."

What the fuck was going on in there? Surely they weren't… No. No. Just… no. The Swede backed up a few feet and listened to the slight noises coming from behind the closed door. Quiet grunts and moans were nearly inaudible through the thick wood, but Skwisgaar focused on the noise as best as he could.

Pickles and Toki? That was fucking weird. Everyone knew Pickles had screwed around when he was in Snakes 'N' Barrels, but this was… with Toki? The Norwegian was no virgin, but gay? Skwisgaar couldn't wrap his head around that.

Sure, Toki was childlike and naïve, but he wasn't a fag. Yeah, he took turns following each of them around like a puppy, and he was the most emotional of all of them, and he had no problems with physical affection, and he was the only one who would willingly talk to the male fans, and… holy shit. Maybe he really was gay!

A small shriek made him jump. "Gods dammit, that fucksing hurts!"

"Geez, kid, I told you to relax. The more you tense up the longer we're ganna be here."

"Fine. Makes it quick."

"If you didn't fight it, we'd be done by now. Now don't move and let me…" Pickles' voice trailed off. Skwisgaar pressed his ear to the door and held his breath, listening to what he sincerely hoped was anything except the drummer banging Toki.

Soft sighs and grunts made that hope disappear almost immediately, to be replaced by anger. How dare Pickles do that to his Toki? Skwisgaar was the one who brought Toki into the band. Skwisgaar was the one who understood when Toki slipped into his native tongue. Skwisgaar was the one who made Toki a better musician, good enough to be in the biggest band in the entire fucking world.

His hands clenched so hard that what little fingernails he had dug into the skin of his palm. He may hate Toki, but he was a band member and this was so not right. Hell, if anyone should be fucking Toki, it should be him! After all, who could possibly like the aging, drugged out drummer over him, the gorgeous and awesomely virile lead guitarist?

Fuck that.

Now worked up into a near rage, Skwisgaar told himself that he would kick the drummer's ass later on. He was far from the best fighter in the house, but he could take on Pickles. Maybe when he was drunk… well, drunker than usual. The Swede was not strong in any sense of the word, but he was quick. Surely that would be enough to outdo Pickles.

"Ah! Right there… fucks, Pickle. You sos good at dis…"

The drummer laughed. "Lats a' practice, Toki."

Skwisgaar's eyes widened. Pickles had lots of practice banging men? Pickles was gay! The sudden realization sent chills down his spine. The band spent an awfully lot of time together in various states of undress. Most of the time they didn't even bother taking their sluts back to their rooms and just fucked them wherever, regardless of who else was in the room. Hell, most of them had shared girls at the same time. What if… what if Pickles had been fucking the girls but actually looking at and thinking about the band members?

No. He could not let that happen. Something like this could break up the band. The band was their life. And, other than his little adventure with his mother's new husband, none of them had anything outside of Dethklok to live for.

When another loud moan sounded, a blind rage took over. Skwisgaar twisted the handle and kicked the door open. "What is the fucksing names of Odin are yous two doing?!"

Ignoring their surprised greetings, he stalked over to the bed where Pickles straddled Toki's hips and punched the drummer square in the face. The redhead fell of the bed, clutching his nose and trying to stem the flow of blood. "What the hell, Skwisgaar?"

Toki grabbed his arms when the blond tried to go after Pickles again. "Whats is you doings?"

"Me? Whats is I doings? You guys is de ones having the homo-skecks-it-al sex!"

"Fack you, ya Swedish fack! Does it look like we were having sex?"

For the first time, Skwisgaar saw through the haze of anger and looked around the room. His knowledge of gay sex ended at the meeting of dick and ass, but there were no other signs he expected to see when interrupting said sex. No flowers or soft music, no men dressed in ladies clothes, no bottles of lube laying around… wait.

"Ah-hah! I knows it!" He picked up a plastic bottle and held it out. "If yous is not havings de gay sex, why does you needs de lube?"

Pickles got to his feet and rolled his eyes. "It ain't lube. That's massage oil."

The more he looked at the two of them, the more Skwisgaar realized that indeed, they had not been having gay sex. The most important fact was that, except for Toki having no shirt on, they were both fully clothed. Toki took the bottle from his hand and put it on the blanket next to him.

"I passes out in the baths-tub last night and hurts really bad this mornings, so Pickles says he helps me out, likes a pal."

Pickles shrugged when the guitarist looked at him. "We had a lady for massages when I was in Snakes 'N' Barrels. I learned sahm stuff."

"But de noises…"

At that Toki looked uncomfortable and Pickles grinned. "Ya, I know. Toki's a loud little bastard, ain't he?" Muttering something under his breath, Toki thanked Pickles and fled the room. The drummer laughed and gingerly removed his hand from his nose. "Fack, Skwisgaar. Did ya have ta hit me so hard?"

The Swede shrugged. "I t'oughts you was giving the whats-for to Toki."

"Nah. He's just a kid. There ain't enough drugs in the world to make me think that's okay."

"Goods." He looked at the bottle of oil on the bed and pursed his lips. "Pickles, is you really dat good at de massagies?" The redhead nodded. "Coulds you… woulds… Shows me?"

If the drummer was surprised by the request he didn't show it and instructed the guitarist to take off his shirt and lay on the mattress. When he was positioned, Pickles climbed on top and moved his hair out of the way.

"Okay. This might hurt a little, but you'll feel better when I'm done."

The moment roughened fingers touched his shoulders, Skwisgaar understood why the Norwegian made so much noise, since he found himself nearly matching the other man's volume. Closing his eyes, he let the gently kneading hands work their magic and felt tension seep out of his body. About the time he was nothing more than a pile of boneless muscle and was so relaxed he wondered if this was a new type of drug, the door flew open so hard that the knob got lodged in the wall.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING IN HERE!"

Pickles sighed in resignation as Nathan's booming voice echoed through the room. "Not again, dammit."


End file.
